


An Angel's Heart in a Devil's Body

by VegabondGloria



Category: Odin Sphere
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-08 22:56:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8866708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VegabondGloria/pseuds/VegabondGloria
Summary: As the final battle between the Aesir and the Vanir rages, Ingway pushes aside his ongoing suffering to save the one he cares about.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Rest in pieces

The battle between the Aesir and Vanir rages, but no one knows he’s there. They’re better off not knowing—if anyone saw Ingway, they’d rush in to kill him and he wouldn’t know what would happen afterwards. Either things would be quick and painless or completely _morbid_.

He hears soldiers on both sides letting out war cries and smells blood on the dusty wind. Every part of his body aches—his wounds from his battle with Velvet threaten to open again and his bones feel like ice. What’s worse is the hunger inside him; it twists like nausea in his stomach and throat and he desires to find something, _anything_ , be it corpse or living, so that he might dig his teeth in and satisfy his horrid desire.

 _You learned too late…_ And he smiles grimly while a dwarven bomb’s explosion sends a spray of sand into the stony niche he’s hiding in. _You were too stupid to leave the path you were following. Maybe if you had just…_

He stops that thought. There never will be another _maybe_. There is only what has happened and it is unchangeable.

He hears the whirling of an Aesir airship and looks up. The stupid thing is hovering not too far from where he is and he quirks an eyebrow, surprised that it isn’t doing anything to participate in the battle. Come to think of it, this isn’t a place where it would be useful for all the tall, crumbling towers that had once been a Valentinian fort…

“ _I’ll take care of it! Go on ahead!_ ”

His eyes dart to the east and he sees a flash of green and a glimmer of red. His mind goes numb as the fairy flies directly at the ship, Psypher crossbow shining violently.

Queen Mercedes looks every bit as small and fragile as when he left her in that sewer, but the determination and bravery she expresses gives her appearance ferocity. The petals of her eternally blooming crown dance in the wind as she charges, lips forming a perfect smug smile.

The ship still doesn’t fire. Horror wells up in Ingway’s chest and he wants to scream, but he knows Mercedes won’t hear him. The flamethrower has already activated.

The queen’s body is enveloped in deathly blaze that lasts for several long, agonizing seconds. Before device is shut off, the sorcerer witnesses a tiny, charred form plummeting towards the ground with her weapon. Blood boiling at the airship’s _atrocious_ act, he rises to his feet, rips a whirlwind potion from beneath his mantle and uses all his physical energy to toss it up at the ship. He doesn’t even stop to check if the potion hit its target before forcing himself into a sprint, running towards the little ruined chapel where he heard the sickening crash of something breaking through the roof.

He jumps through the rotted door and runs by stained glass windows depicting the ancient Erion gods Valentine adopted, the battle now muffled by the walls. A shaft of light filters through the spot in the ceiling that’s been broken through and shines on queen’s still, unmoving body atop the altar. She almost appears as though she’s lying at her own funeral, crossbow carelessly left at the bottom of the steps by mourners who didn’t care for the dead’s decency.

He hears her whimper when he lifts her into his arms and carries her down the steps, collapsing upon his knees as painful fatigue finally sets in again. The burns are awful—her skin is swollen and blistered in many areas and the sight is indescribably gruesome. She’s a queen, but she’s going to die like an _animal_.

He remembers his father. He remembers that he failed to kill him when he had the chance. _If Velvet hadn’t interfered, then this wouldn’t have happened!_ But he bites down on his tongue and reminds himself that she played no role in this—she doesn’t even know he’s remotely associated with the new queen. That he was with her when she began as a spoiled, fledgling princess struggling to take down a rebellion in the wake of her mother’s death.

Mercedes opens her mouth as though trying to say something. Talons clutch at Ingway’s heart and he brushes at the burnt braids. _Don’t die, don’t die. You don’t deserve to die…_

The Darkova’s hunger twists in him again. He grinds his teeth together. _Don’t do it, you fool. Don’t let this…_ He lifts her, buries his face in her neck. Despite the scorches, he can still smell the sweet scent of jasmine upon her. _Let me give you a **chance** , Queen…_

He shouldn’t do this. His own body is already weak as is. Doing this kind of spell could easily kill him in the process, yet he does not care. His fingers dig tightly into the fabric of her clothing and he exhales sharply. Her weak, faintly beating heart is in sync with his ugly, tainted one.

**_Heal_ **

His own life force flows into her and it feels nothing like any time he’s performed the spell before. His limbs become despairingly heavy, but Mercedes becomes light in his arms. He senses her burns vanishing and her skin and hair returning to their vibrant splendor. She moves in his arms—he panics, but does not let go. The process is not complete, she’s still not healed.

He becomes dizzy and, for a moment in his miserable life, enters a state of heaven. In the shining halls of Valentine castle, he’s with his mother, he’s with Velvet, and his grandfather is even there with a true, gentle smile on his face. He hears a voice call his name and turns—a small fairy is floating towards him, arms outstretched, expression the epitome of joy. She barrels into him, red eyes staring into his violet ones, and moves in, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks.

The vision fades just as quickly as it came. He sets down Mercedes as he hears fairy soldiers approach. Even as he’s closer to death than he ever was, he needs to leave immediately. _As much as he’d rather not let go of her, especially when he still fears for her fate._

She’ll never know he was the one who saved her and she’s better off fantasizing. Ingway disappears into the shadows of ruin, the beast inside him bearing its fangs in preparation for the world’s end.


End file.
